


Save Me (Reuploaded)

by raccodactyl



Series: Good Thing [5]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Name-Calling, Period-Typical Homophobia, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccodactyl/pseuds/raccodactyl
Summary: Kidnapped by the O'Driscoll gang, you need to fight to survive.*Influenced by canon kidnapping and scenes from the Last of US





	Save Me (Reuploaded)

**Author's Note:**

> I deleted the original copy because I wasn't happy with it so here it is, edited and hopefully a bit better. I'm still not entirely happy with it but I need it here to get the plot moving. This series started as just me writing about the cowboy I found myself falling in love with but it turned into something more than that and I can only hope to continue to pump out more decent content. I hope you folks are enjoying reading the series as much as I enjoy writing it and thank you soso much for sticking with it so far. 
> 
> Also!!! My tumblr is distantcowboynoises.tumblr.com and ah I'm down to write any requests you may have from headcanons to one-shots or whatever you want. I'll write for Arthur, John, Dutch, and maybe others if I feel like I know the character well enough. With the sudden drop in temperature in my area, I have off school for a while so now is the time to leave requests! Also feel free to request things in my comments if tumblr isn't your thing. Thank you so much again for supporting this series and yeah, I'll leave you to it.
> 
> -Mason

It was late, the light of the moon providing a dim light through the camp. Arthur was asleep in your arms, snoring softly in his peaceful state. Unfortunately, you had drunk a bit too much before hitting the hay, and your bladder was ready to explode.

You softly slipped out of bed and put your boots on. You groggily walked a little past the tree line to go and take a piss. You heard noises in the trees, “Probably just a deer,” you thought to yourself.

As you undid your zipper, you thought you heard the noises getting closer. Before you knew it, a hand was placed over your mouth and a gun placed against your temple. “You make a single noise and I’ll shoot you right now,” said a deep voice in a thick Irish accent.O’Driscoll if you’ve ever heard one.

Fear coursed through your body, your heart beating fast enough to feel it in your eyeballs. You tucked yourself back into your pants, putting your hands up before the man kicked you in the back of the knees. You dropped to the forest floor with a hard thump. He pushed you to the ground, hogtying you and gagging you with a cloth. He threw you over his shoulder and began to walk deeper into the woods.

“Think Colm will be pleased with us tonight, lads,” the man said.

Another voice spoke up, “Sure. This rat will certainly draw in the rest of those fuckers.”

The men let out a laugh and soon enough you were thrown over the rear of a horse. It was an awful position to be in, you had never felt more vulnerable. You wanted to scream and beg for help but you knew there was no way you could. When the horse began to go fast, you could feel a horrible pain shoot through your rib cage. You’d broken a rib before and this was certainly the same feeling. You let out a pained groan, only to be met with the grip of a pistol hitting your forehead. The pain was too much, you could feel your forehead bleeding badly. Head injuries always bled worse than they would let on, but you could feel this one was bad. You blacked out.

\--

You came out of your haze to find your arms dangling and an awful headache. They had you strung up from your feet, leaving you in nothing but your pants, boots and shirt somehow discarded. You looked down to see a small puddle of blood. Your forehead had stopped bleeding but it still stung and you could feel the sticky, not quite dry blood on your forehead and clotting in your hair. You looked up to find your ribcage black and blue. You were no stranger to violence, it was part of your everyday life, but this was a new low.

You could hear guards outside the little cellar that you were kept. You began to struggle, not trying to make too much noise, but in your struggle to wiggle loose from the chains, a massive shot of pain struck through you. Your ribs ached, there was no way you could do this. Letting out an audible scream, a guard soon sauntered down the stairs.

“Well, looky here boys. Seems the fag has woken up,” the brute laughed.

More men came down the stairs, “Let’s have a bit of fun then.”

Before you could protest, the men began to throw punches at your back and torso. You were in an excessive amount of pain, you had never felt this awful. You let out cries of pain between blows, only encouraging them to hit harder. You could felt ready to blackout again when they started to lay off of you.

“Now boys,” a man spoke, immediately the rest of the men backed off, you could tell it was Colm. “Cut the bastard down and tie him upright. We don’t want him dying on us. Not yet.”

One of the men grumbled and got his hunting knife out and began to cut your feet loose. You fell on the hard floors, your limp arms just barely catching your fall. You landed on your back, keeling over in pain as it shot through your body. Two men grabbed you and dragged you back to the wall, each of them taking an arm and trying you up the rings against the wall. The blood rushed from your head, only making you feel worse. It was better than keeping it up there, but on top of the pain from the beatings, you were ready to implode. There was no helping you here.

“Clear out,” Colm yelled, leaving you with him alone.

Your chin was at your chest, you were exhausted. Colm kneeled in front of you, putting his dirty fingers under your chin to make you look up at him.

“Hope you’re ready to die for the cause,” he said, a dark smile on his face, “Dutchy is gonna waltz in here trying to save your worthless ass. We’re ending this feud today.” He left a mocking pat on your shoulders before leaving you alone.

As bad as you wanted to call it quits and pass out, you knew that wasn’t an option. You let yourself rest for a brief few minutes before taking a quick look at your surroundings. You tugged at your wrists, only to find that they hadn’t been tied quite tight enough to keep your hands away from each other. You began to tug at the sloppy knots, freeing your hands quickly, embarrassing for how long it took the boys to tie you up. Should you have tried this earlier, you probably could have made it out.

No time to think about that now, though. You searched the room for anything you could use as a weapon. You found an old, dull knife in the desk drawer, but apart from that, all you had was the rope they had used to tie you up in the first place.

You needed to make a sound to lure one of them down here. You found an old tin can and threw it against the hard, brick wall and sure enough, one of the poor saps came on down the stairs. You were waiting, standing parallel to the door frame when he came down. He gave a quick look around before you quickly wrapped the rope around his neck. He dropped the gun he had drawn and choked out a final breath before collapsing. You caught him, laying the body down as slowly as you could. You picked up his gun and luckily it had a few bullets left in it. This was your chance to escape. The sun was starting to rise, meaning the rest of Colm’s brutes were going to be up any minute now. You needed to work fast and effectively.

You tried to stealth out a few of them, all you needed was to get to one of the horses and you could ride off. You cut a few of them, but soon enough, someone spotted you.

“Get up,” the man screamed, ”The bastard escaped, get up!”

You soon had men tailing behind you. You quickly hopped on a horse, digging in hard. Gunshots flew past you, one of them just grazing your arm, but none of them landing. It hurt like a bitch but it could have been much worse.

Four men stay on your tail, gaining on you quickly. You rode as fast as you could, occasionally turning around to try and get a shot at one of them. You shot one’s horse on accident. You hated seeing the lovely beasts die, but right now your life was at stake, and now one less man was following you and that’s what mattered.

More gunshots began to fly but you were able to take out to of the other men, leaving one left riding behind you. As you rode, you turned to look behind you, letting your horse do the steering when he really began to shoot at you. You shot back as best you could with the rusty repeater you had, but you were left helpless when you heard the quiet clicks of an empty magazine. In your moment of carelessness and fear, your horse let out a loud neigh, and soon you were being thrown off.

“You thought you could run, boy,” he sneered.

You were left on the ground, your horse had run away and he slowly approached you. You turned to your belly, spotting your knife under some brush. You began to make your crawl over there, your arms so desperately wanting to give out but you had to keep fighting.

He crept up slowly behind you, giving a quick kick to your stomach, “You’re a fighter, aren’t you, lad.”

You picked yourself back up, just trying to crawl up to the weapon you so desperately needed. He laughed, but you could tell he didn’t know what you were going after. “Just not your style to give up now, is it? I admire your spirit,” he said before landing another blow to your stomach.

You keeled over in pain but you knew you were within reach of the desperately needed weapon. He turned you over and straddled you, going to land a few punches on your face and chest. You reached over under the brush, moving your hands around desperately as his hands moved to your throat.

You gripped the handle of the knife and quickly moved to stab the attacker in the hand. He let out a pained yelp and you took your chance to reverse the hold. You were on top of him, stabbing relentlessly when you heard your name being called. Still, you continued to do what you were doing. Out of anger and exhaustion, you took out everything you had on him.

You felt hands on your shoulders and you panicked, turning around to try to stab whoever was grabbing you but the unidentified figure quickly took your wrists and took the knife away from you. “It’s me,” the voice said, but your head was still clouded by anger and fear.

“It’s me,” the voice said louder. You struggled as they pulled you further into their chest. Out of pure exhaustion, you gave up, only to find Arthur holding onto you tightly.

He sat on his knees and pulled you off the bloodied corpse and into his lap. You let out sobs as you collapsed into his chest. “My boy,” he breathed, burying his face in your hair as you clung to him.

“Arthur,” you cried weakly.

He only shushed you, “It’s okay, darling.”

You barely noticed the sounds of horses trotting behind you. “You find him,” Dutch called out.

“Got him,” Arthur yelled back.

He cradled you in his arms, slightly swaying back and forth, “I’ve got you, doll,” he whispered, “You’re safe now.” 

He helped you get on your feet, helping you onto his horse as you rode back to camp, making sure you weren’t followed. He rode easy, letting you rest against his back, your arms wrapped tightly around him.

You arrived back at camp and quickly the girls began to rush to you. Arthur carried you bridal style, laying you down gently on the bed you’ve turned to share. He lightly traced over the wound on your forehead, making you flinch.

“Step back, Mr Morgan,” Susan said before quickly stepping in. She began to clean you off, cleaning your face and hair with water before taking a whiskey-doused rag and placing it on the barely closed cut. You let out a wince and Arthur flashed a small smile, you could tell he wasn’t feeling right. He looked helpless, he knew that this is what needed to be done and he could never do as good a job as Miss Grimshaw, but he never wanted to see you hurt.

“Tilly, Mary-Beth,” Susan called out, “I need you to get cold compresses going now!”

The girls quickly ran to get water and rags. Miss Grimshaw carefully poked at your clearly bruised torso. You knew your ribs were broken, no doubt about it. The younger girls came over, laying the cold rags along your torso and providing some type of relief. Grimshaw opened a bottle and poured some of the liquid into a spoon, “This’ll help the pain.” You had no idea what it was you were drinking but you didn’t care, you just needed the throbbing to stop.

The women began to clear out, letting Arthur come back finally. He kneeled next to the bed, trying to get face level with you. You felt cleaner and a bit better with the medication Susan gave you but you still felt the worst you ever had.

“How did I let this happen,” he said, looking a bit angry at himself.

“Don’t start with that,” you shook your head, trying to give the firmest tone you could muster, “No one could have known. They could’ve taken anybody, I just happened to be an easy target.”

He nodded, taking in a deep breath, “I thought I lost you,” his voice cracked.

“I was so scared,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just-” you stuttered, “Hold me please.”

Arthur moved immediately, holding you in his arms tight but gentle as he began to hum. You were running on empty and found yourself fading not long after that.

\--

You woke up in what felt like late afternoon, the compresses changed and your forehead redressed. Your body felt tight, your chest ached and you could still feel the ghost of the attacker’s hands around your neck. Your stomach growled after a long, strenuous day without food. You removed the wet rags from your torso and began to get up. It hurt, but not too bad with your back a bit hunched. You felt weak but you were ready to get some food in you.

You began your short walk to Pearson’s table before Arthur quickly jogged over you, letting you put your arm around his shoulders to sit down. He grabbed a bowl of stew for you and you joined a few of the other gang members.

“Now what in the hell happened to you,” Marston said in his familiar, raspy voice.

“Have at least the slightest bit of tact, son,” Dutch gently scolded. “But go on, Mr Y/L/N.”

You explained the story, keeping it fairly brief, talking about how they picked you up sometime in the middle of the night and it lead to you escaping from a camp of O’Driscolls. You gave as many details as you could remember, but a good lot of it had blacked out.

“Shit,” John said shocked, “And you managed to only make it out with a few broken ribs and a head wound? Damn, Arthur, you think I’m lucky? Look at this boy here.”

All four of you at the table let out a chuckle at that one. Arthur put his arm around your shoulders, making you feel a little more comfortable. The gang had grown to know your relationship, and apart from the occasional side comment from Micah, it seemed no one really had much to say about it. Dutch had really made sure that the gang was accepting of most anybody as long as they hadn’t done anything particularly blasphemous. This was a troop of murderers and maybe not in cold blood, but it was a sin nonetheless. You and Arthur were able to show a bit more affection around camp and it felt good but you never liked to push your luck. A simple gesture such as that really did make your day a little bit better.

Casual conversation continued, John and Dutch both giving advice as to how to get those injuries to heal a bit quicker and offering their sympathy. Dutch told you to take time off for a while until you could stand upright and your forehead wasn’t ready to come unstitched at any second.

More gang members came around, each offering their condolences, many asking to hear the story about how you were “kidnapped by the savage O’Driscolls.” You were happy to speak with the gang around the fire, little Jack giving you a hand of flowers and a little note reading “Get well soon, Uncle Y/N.” The sweet, innocent gesture making you feel a bit better. You finished your night singing the usual, crude songs around the campfire with the rest of the boys as Javier played guitar. The moon shined bright over the camp and you and Arthur decided it was time for bed.

You headed back to your shared tent, Arthur changing out of his day clothes and into something looser. He laid down first, opening his arms for you to come and lay on his chest. “How are you feeling, boy?”

“Little better,” you sighed, settling down and enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. “Chest aches like a bitch but it’ll heal.”

“You gonna peacefully let me coddle you for a bit,” he joked, “or are you gonna fight me?”

“You know I’ll fight,” you chuckled, only to be followed by a yelp of pain, only making him laugh harder.

“Until you can take a deep breath without screamin’, I’ll be tending to you.”

“Guess I’ll just be stuck with you then.”

“Happily, darlin’.”

He planted a kiss to your forehead before making sure you were situated in a way that was comfortable. He was wary of how you were positioned considering your torso was dark with deep bruises and cuts, but you insisted on him staying there. You just needed to feel him, know he was there to protect you in any way you needed. You never liked feeling dependent on someone, but you needed to at this moment. You were weak at this point in time, you needed to rest up and as much as you wanted to deny it, you need him to baby you for a bit. No one had ever cared for you as he did.

You closed your eyes for a brief second but found yourself thinking about the horrible events of the day. Arthur could feel you begin to tense up, “What’s wrong, he asked, “Did I hurt you?”

“No. Never,” you assured him, “I just get a bit anxious is all.”

“Do you wanna talk about it? What happened back there,” he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper. “

“I told you what happened.”

“You told me what happened but you didn’t tell me how you were doing. You’re usually out like a light. Something’s bugging you.”

You nodded. He knew you too well to think you could hide any feelings from him. He knew when you were off. “I think it’s the way it happened,” you sighed.

He nodded, letting you continue, “I was just going out to take a piss and suddenly there’s a gun at my head and I’m being tied up like a cheap bounty. They were savages and I was just so scared.”

“There’s no shame in that,” he reassured, “There was no reason for that and that’s what makes Colm’s gang so god damn bad. Cold-blooded killers, taking down everyone in their path.”

You found a tear dripping down your face, “I’m just scared, Arthur.”

“I know,” he shushed, holding you tightly.

“No, Arthur. I’m scared about what else they could do,” you said sitting up, him following. “I made it out but that’s because they were being sloppy. I got lucky. What if they got one of the women, or Jack, or you, Arthur?”

He nodded, an introspective look on his face he got when he started really thinking about something. You broke the silence again after a few moments, “I don’t know if we can keep this life up, Arthur. I don’t wanna leave it all behind, I love this gang like a family. But I don’t like being in danger. I don’t like worrying about you.”

His eyes met yours and he placed his hand gently on your face, ”We’re gonna get out of here. Not right now, but soon.”

You bit your lip, “You mean it?”

“We’re gonna set up a little house on a little ranch. Fix it up and get some horses. You and me, we start saving our cash, we’ll be able to get outta here. I promise.”

Although yours were busted, you planted a quick kiss on his lips before sticking your pinky out and having it locked around his. “Promise.”

He hugged you, pulling you into his chest and kissed the top of your head. “I almost lost you today and I can’t do that again. Our luck was bound to run out at some point.”

“I just want us to be safe, Arthur.”

“And I will do whatever I can to make our future better. We’ve got years ahead of us and this life, it ain’t worth continuing. I wanna be an honest man. Make honest money. I haven’t done too many good things in my life.”

“You know you mean absolutely everything to me, right? You know that.”

He nodded, giving you another kiss on the forehead, “I love you. I can’t bear to lose you. Best thing that’s happened to me and I’m not going to throw it away on a wild west fantasy.

“I don’t want you to give up on everything for me.”

“I’m not losing anything. I think Dutch will understand that, or at least Hosea will. I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while, but this is a new low.” 

You bit your lip and nodded, “You’re sure about this?”

“You know I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

He grabbed your hand and began kissing at your sore knuckles, “I want better for us. Better for you.”

You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled into his neck, taking in the smell of the campfire that lingered on him. “I don’t know how we’re gonna make it out.”

“We’ll find a way.”

You wanted so badly to believe him and a good part of you did, but this life was hard to leave. Arthur was a determined, loyal man. You knew that he wanted this but Dutch would be hard to convince. Arthur has been with these people for decades. This was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

He rubbed your back gently as you sat in his arms. He was far more clingy than he would let on but it was one of your favorite things about him. He continued to hum as he usually did and you could feel yourself begin to relax Things were going to change for the better, it was just going to take some time to get there. The dream of a little house with a wooden fence and animals to take care of. 

You could never leave the whole life behind. Bounty hunting was in your blood, he was the best shot on this side of the Atlantic. You just wanted to be done with the running, done with O’Driscolls, done with train robbing and thieving and killing people that don’t deserve it. It was time to move on and he knew that maybe even better than you did. 

“Soon,” he spoke. “Real soon.”


End file.
